Growing Up Is Hard To Do
by museandpinksocks
Summary: Bella is forced to move home to Forks when her fiancé leaves after she becomes pregnant with his child. Upon returning home Bella meets Edward, who not only falls in love with her, but her unborn child as well. AU/AH, All Human, OOC, Canon Couples
1. Chapter One: Letting Go

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

Summery: Bella, who is twenty-three years old, in college, and engaged to be married the following summer, is forced to move back to her hometown of Forks, Washington when her fiancé leaves her after she becomes pregnant with his child. Upon returning home Bella meets Edward Cullen, who not only falls in love with her, but her unborn child as well.

Warnings: AU/AH, All Human, OOC, Canon Couples

A/N: Major thanks to my besties mystycblue and garbageandkneehighs. Also to my beta beans827.

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Inspiration Playlist:

1. Full Moon by The Black Ghosts  
2. Gives You Hell by The All-American Rejects

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CHAPTER ONE – LETTING GO

POV: Bella

"Stop worrying, Mom. Tanya has agreed to take me to the airport Saturday morning. I sent Charlie the itinerary. I've already made all the necessary arrangements for the clinic to transfer my files to Dr. Romero's office. My laundry is done. Bags are packed. I've even remembered to put a spare pair of panties in my purse!" as if I would actually need them; it was only a four hour flight.

"I'm sorry, Bella. You know I'm just concerned…"

Cutting my mom off before she could go any further I said, "Don't be. Everything is going to be fine. I'll be there in a couple of days. Tanya is taking tomorrow and Friday off so we can spend some time together before I leave. There is nothing to worry about. I've got to go now, okay? I love you both. Bye."

I hit the END button on my cell phone and tossed it onto the pile of laundry I was currently folding.

As if I weren't already stressed enough, Renee had been driving me crazy with her constant fretting ever since I'd called her and Charlie three weeks ago with the news that I would be coming home.

I took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then let it out slowly. I knew I was being too hard on Renee; she'd been nothing but understanding. I just had so much on my mind already that my mother's anxiety only added to my own. It made the situation almost unbearable.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed I laid my hands over the tiny bump that was protruding from my lower abdomen. How had my life gotten so off track? Just one month ago everything seemed to be going my way; I was engaged to – what I thought was – the most wonderful man, there were only three weeks left until the end of my junior year's spring semester, and our wedding date was set for shortly after graduation the following summer.

A little pink plus sign had changed all that.

I'd never given much thought to having children. It wasn't really something I fantasized about when I was younger. If I did imagine it, it was always much later on in life; when I was older, married, had a career, and a nice home – maybe even after doing a bit of traveling first.

What I never considered was that I would become pregnant at twenty-three, unmarried, still in school, and never having been further east than Albuquerque!

Nor did I anticipate that the father of my child would run screaming at the thought of drool and stinky diapers.

But he had.

Hell, he didn't even want to get married anymore.

He said the pregnancy had put everything into perspective for him and that he "just wasn't ready" for any of it.

Then he offered to pay for me to "take care of it" – like he was doing me a damn favor – because it was "the best course of action for the both of us."

And if that wasn't enough to make me hate him, he had then placed his hand on my shoulder, and in an appeasing tone of voice, told me that I could keep the car.

Fucking. Asshole.

I smiled to myself as I recalled the look on his face later that same day when I pulled into his driveway after having – in a childish fit of rage – driven the car through an automatic carwash with its windows rolled down.

All he seemed physically capable of doing was following me with his eyes as I made quite the juvenile display of stepping out of the car, shrugging out of the raincoat I had futilely worn through the carwash, and letting it fall to the ground before turning to walk down the street to the nearest bus stop while flipping him off the entire time.

It wasn't exactly my best moment.

I shook my head and sighed. Somewhere along the line my life had taken a very unexpected detour. So many things had changed in such a small amount of time. I couldn't wrap my head around it. And the worst part was that I knew it wasn't over; the biggest change was still to come.

So for the time being, I was going home to Forks, Washington, where I grew up. Charlie and Renee were forever telling me that if there ever came a time in my life when I needed help, no matter what the situation was, I had somebody to call and a place to go.

I was taking them up on their offer.

I knew my parents would support me through whatever decisions I needed to make, and as much as I hated to put my college career on hold, I didn't think I was strong enough to do this alone.

Turning to my side I started to sort through the rest of the unfolded laundry. I took my time perfectly aligning seams and smoothing out every wrinkle before placing each item into its designated drawer.

Just as I was hanging Tanya's satin ruffle top into her over stuffed closet – the girl had more clothes than she knew what to do with – "Full Moon" by The Black Ghosts broke through the silence.

I sighed. It was the ring tone I used for anybody with a three-six-oh number. That somebody was probably Renee, having just remembered something or another.

I reached over and snatched my cell phone off the bed, hit the SEND button, and answered with an exasperated, yet resigned, "What now, Mom?"

"Bella?"

Oops. I quickly pulled the phone away from my ear to look at the Caller ID. It was Jessica.

"Oh, hey, Jess!" I said with relief. "I thought you were my mom."

Jessica tittered. "Well I guess that would explain your tone."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Renee has been driving me bonkers the past few weeks. You have no idea!"

There was a slight pause.

"_Aaa_ctually," Jessica began, drawing out the A, "That's why I called you. Angela and I stopped by the Flower Shoppe today. While we were there we talked to your mom. She told us about… um… well I think she just kind of assumed that we already knew about it. That you had already told us…" her voice trailed off suggestively.

It took me a few seconds to realize what she was talking about, and then it clicked. Damn it. Renee must have assumed, what with Jessica and Angela being my closest friends, that I had already told them about everything. I hadn't. It had been more than a month since the last time I'd talked to either of my friends. I suddenly felt guilty, and despite the fact that it had to have been an accident, my irritation with Renee grew.

I opened my mouth to speak but I didn't quite know what to say.

Jessica spoke first, "Bella, why didn't you call us?" Her tone was a mixture of worry and hurt.

I slumped down on the bed. "I'm sorry, Jess. I didn't mean to hurt anybody's feelings. I just… I needed some time. You know?" It was a weak excuse. I knew that. Aside from my parents and Tanya, I had been shutting everyone out. Including my best friends. It wasn't that I didn't want them to know, I wasn't ashamed of my situation; what I felt was foolish.

Jessica caught the slight waver in my voice. "Oh Bella, I am so sorry. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay, you'll see."

"It doesn't feel that way, Jess." I swallowed trying to dislodge the lump that had risen in my throat.

"Hey, do you remember right before I found out I was pregnant with Bree?" Jessica asked. "When Mike left me and moved to Texas to work for his uncle?"

"Of course I remember." Mike and Jessica were high school sweethearts. They started dating sometime during our sophomore year. Mike was a junior. After Mike graduated he decided to attend Peninsula Community College in Port Angeles so he could stay close to home – close to Jessica. Jessica joined him there one year later. It wasn't long after that when their relationship started to go downhill. Then one day Mike decided he'd had enough. It took Jessica four months to build up the courage to pick up the phone and tell him she was pregnant. Three days later Mike was back in Forks. Now they're married and have the most beautiful little girl.

"So, I know what you're going through," Jessica continued. "How it feels. It's going to take some time, but trust me; these things have a way of working themselves out. We're all here for you, Bella. We won't let you fall. You just need to let us in."

I broke down. "I was stupid, Jess. I jumped head first into a relationship with a man I barely knew. I honestly believed he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I gave myself to him. How could I have been so naïve?" I balled the cuff of my sweater into a fist and used it to wipe my tears away. I'd already cried enough over this man.

"Honey, you weren't stupid. You were in love. Unfortunately, once the love spell starts to wear off, love and stupidity start to resemble the same thing."

I coughed out a laugh. "So what you're saying is, I was stupidly in love?"

Jessica laughed too. "Most people are. I think we've all been there at one time or another… except for maybe Angela and Ben."

This is what I loved most about Jessica; it didn't matter what kind of mood you were in, she had the ability to cheer you up.

"Ugh! Don't even get me started on those two," I said with mock loathing, my voice still thick from crying.

"I know, right? We can't all have a story book romance."

I could hear Angela's protest in the background, "Hey! Ben and I have our… differences in opinion."

"Oh _puh-lease_! Real relationships have issues," Jessica shot back. "Most of which require professional help."

"Exactly." I agreed. "You would think that they could throw in a little bit of drama every now and then, like a squabble or two, just to make us feel better."

"You know what I think?" Jessica teased. "I think it's all an act. I mean do you know how much sex those two have? They're a couple of rabbits! A good portion of it _has_ to be make-up sex."

Jessica and I burst out laughing. Then there was a short scuffling sound, a sharp thwack, and an "ow" before Angela's voice sounded in my ear.

"Hello, Bella," she said in an extra sweet voice. "I'm sorry about that. Sometimes Jess likes to babble when her blood sugar gets too low; she hasn't had her afternoon snack yet." Then she spoke away from the receiver, "Here you go honey, have some graham crackers."

"Hey, Ang," I said as soon as I was able to calm my hysterics. It felt good to laugh like this again. The way only Jessica and Angela could make me laugh. I'd forgotten just how much I had missed my friends.

"I'm really sorry about all this, Bella. I tried to talk Jess into waiting for you to call us, but you know how she can be. She can't handle not being in the loop."

"No, I know. It's okay. Really. I'm actually glad you guys called. I've missed you."

"We've missed you too. So much! And we can't wait to see you again."

I smiled at this. "I know what you mean. I can't wait to see you guys either. It'll be nice, the three of us living in the same town again. We'll be able to get together almost any time we want, not just for the weekend." I'd visited Forks only a hand full of times since I'd left for college three years ago. Usually for no more than a week at Christmas time and two weeks during summer vacation. Last summer I'd decided to vacation in Las Vegas for a week with Tanya rather than go home. Then Renee and Charlie had decided to visit me in Phoenix for Christmas. So it had been more than a year since the last time the three of us were able to spend any time together.

"Speaking of spending time together, there is something Jess and I wanted to talk to you about."

"What's that?" I asked. I was genuinely curious. Did they already want to make plans? My smile grew wider.

"You know how I run a childcare center out of my home, right?"

"Right." I said, confused. I wasn't sure where she was going with this. What did Angela's daycare have to do with us spending time together?

"Well next week will be Lauren's last week working for me. She wanted to take the summer off before she goes back to school in the fall, and I'll need somebody to fill her position." Angela paused for a moment and I was just about to ask her if she was really suggesting that I be the one to fill Lauren's position, when she continued right into persuasion. "I know it would only be temporary, what with the pregnancy and all, but it will give the three of us _loads_ of time to spend together."

"Ang, I don't think… "

"No, wait. Hear me out, Bella. Remember back in high school how we all used to talk about working at the same place over summer break so we could spend more time together?"

"Yes, but…"

"Well, this is just like that. Only I'll be your boss as well as your co-worker. I'm flexible and considerate – and I'll bet you haven't found a job out here yet?"

"No, not yet…"

"Well now you have one," Angela promised. "And you didn't even have to interview for the position!"

"_Angela._" I could hear Jessica giggling in the background. They'd planned this.

"Come on, Bella. It'll be fun, the three of us working together everyday, and the children are all so sweet. Not to mention it would give you plenty of hands-on experience for when the baby comes."

"I don't know, Ang." She actually kind of had a point there.

"Please, Bella? I've had only one other person come in for an interview and all she could do was talk about how she couldn't stand the sight of baby drool and spit up."

"_I_ can't stand the sight of baby drool and spit up."

"Yes, but you're going to have a baby soon, so you'll need to get over that quickly, and Jess and I can help. We'll have you immune in no time."

I took a deep breath and blew it out through my cheeks.

"I'll give you Fridays off?" she offered in a singsong voice.

I thought about that for a moment. Fridays off, along with flexibility and understanding, childcare experience, and working with friends… How could I turn down a job offer with so many perks? I couldn't. Angela had me. She knew it too.

I groaned in defeat.

"Excellent!" Angela squeaked. "Thank you _so_ much, Bella."

I couldn't help but smile at Angela's enthusiasm. "Yeah, sure, whatever," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Okay, you start one week from Monday. That will give you one week to relax after you get home. I promise we'll ease you into it, show you the ropes first. If we throw a baby at you, it'll be a clean one."

I sighed.

"You're going to be an amazing mother, Bella."

The conviction in Angela's voice caught me off guard, and my throat tightened with emotion. "I hope you're right, Ang," I said in a barely audible whisper.

Without knowing it, Angela had guessed my greatest fear of all; that I would be a bad mother. Aside from the fact that I would be having this baby alone, I wasn't ready - mentally or financially.

"I know I'm right," Angela said with confidence. I wanted to believe her. "I'll see you on Saturday, okay?"

"I'll see you Saturday," I agreed. "Tell Jess bye for me."

"Bye! See you soon," Jessica yelled from the background.

"Take care, Bella," Angela said.

"You too. Bye, Ang." I hit the END button and let the phone fall to the bed.

Angela seemed to realize I no longer wanted to talk. I was thankful for that. This emotional rollercoaster I was riding was going to drive me crazy, and quite possibly those around me. The constant ups and downs – happy one second, sad the next, along with being angry, scared, and nervous – were enough to make me sick. Literally. I could feel the nausea rolling in, my stomach turned, and I sprinted for the bathroom.

Throwing up had to be one of the worst side effects of pregnancy. I hated it. My only hope was that the nausea would go away – and preferably stay away - once I reached my second trimester.

I still had two weeks to go.

Once the nausea had passed and I was able to pull myself up off the floor, I grabbed myself a clean towel, pulled my hair back into a messy bun, and stepped up to the sink to examine myself in the mirror. I looked terrible. My face and neck were blotchy, my eyes rimmed in red, my mascara smeared.

I stood there, locked in my own gaze, and I wondered why I even bothered to apply make-up every morning. It never lasted. I always ended up having to reapply it after moments like these, when either my nausea or my emotions would get the best of me.

Besides, I didn't really think it mattered anymore, whether or not I looked good.

Tearing my gaze away from the girl in the mirror – I didn't want to look at her anymore – I reached out for my bag of toiletries and dug around until I located my toothpaste and facial wash. I needed to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth and the make-up off my face.

When I was done cleaning up I quickly ran a brush through my hair, hung my towel on the rack, and headed down the hall towards the kitchen to find myself something to eat.

As I passed through the living room I snatched the stereo remote off the sofa and hit play – my iPod was already on the dock. The sounds of Coldplay filled the apartment and I immediately felt myself relax.

I set the remote down on the kitchen counter, grabbed myself a can of Hansen's Ale from the refrigerator, and took a long drink before heading to the pantry for some soda crackers.

I'd been practically living off Saltines and ginger ale for the past eleven weeks.

"Oh no," I groaned aloud, when I realized there were no crackers in the box. "I could have sworn…" I pulled the box off the shelf, turned it upside down, and gave it a small shake… nothing. "Damn." I tossed the empty box off to the side and quickly started rummaging around the shelves looking for something similar that would help settle my stomach. The only thing I came across was a half eaten box of Barnum's Animal Crackers buried all the way in the back behind several generic boxes of shells & cheese.

It was better than nothing.

"Hey Prego!" Tanya's voice suddenly called out, "I'm home."

I heard the front door slam and the unmistakable sound of Tanya's heels clacking across the tiled entryway.

"In the kitchen," I replied.

She appeared a few seconds later clad in a black wide-legged strapless jump suit and matching high-heeled sandals. "I figured you'd be in here," she said, her hand on her pudgy waist.

I stuck my tongue out at her, took a sip of my ale, and popped another cookie into my mouth.

"What are you eating?" she asked, setting her purse down on the counter and removing the Bluetooth from her ear.

I raised the little boxcar container in Tanya's direction so she could read the label while using my other hand to shove a couple of more cookies into my mouth.

She gave me a quizzical look. "Where did you get those?"

I tilted my head in the direction of the pantry, picked up my can of ale, and chugged to wash down the set of zebras I'd just devoured. "I'm out of crackers."

She wrinkled her nose as I tossed in another cookie. "Bella, I'm pretty sure those cookies have been in there for more than a month."

"Mmm-hmm," I said through a mouthful of stale elephant butts, "I can tell."

"Yet, you're still eating them?"

"I was desperate." Anything was better than being nauseated. I crammed the last two cookies into my mouth and tossed the empty container onto the counter next to my empty saltines box.

"Apparently – you poor girl. We'll get you some more crackers while we're out, but first I've got to change."

She turned to walk out of the kitchen but stopped before she'd even reached the end of the counter, then she spun back around to face me.

"Wait, we're still on for tonight, right?" She narrowed her eyes and looked me over from head to toe, her face concerned, as though I might fall over at any second.

"Of course," I said, rolling my eyes at her. "I'm pregnant, Tanya, not dying. It's just a little bit of nausea. I'll be fine. Besides all we're going to do is rent a couple of movies, grab some munchies, and then we'll be home. It's not like we'll be out all night." I shrugged my shoulders.

Tanya wasn't convinced. "Bella, you look miserable."

"I'm okay," I reassured her. "I just need to remember not to go so long without eating, that's all."

"Alright, as long as you're sure?" Tanya looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to confirm before she continued, "Because I was thinking maybe we could go to Applebee's for dinner. I haven't eaten since breakfast and I really don't feel like cooking tonight. What do you think?"

"Sure," I agreed, "We could do that." I would have offered to cook us dinner myself, but lately I couldn't seem to go anywhere near a hot stove without wanting to pass out.

"Great!" she exclaimed, before turning and walking out of the kitchen. "Let's hurry and get ready. If we can get out of here in the next thirty minutes we can be there by five and miss the dinner rush." She was already halfway down the hallway.

I downed the last of my ale before throwing the can and both of the empty cracker boxes into the trash. Then I grabbed the stereo remote off the counter and turned the volume up so we would be able to hear the music back in the bedroom.

"Are you planning to wear that?" Tanya asked when I walked into the room. She was standing topless in front of her closet in a pair of black boot-cut jeans shifting through one hanger after another looking for a top to wear. "Thanks for putting away the laundry, by the way. I don't know what I'm going to do when you leave. I hate having to fold and put away clothes."

I pulled a pair of low-rise flares from a stack of clothing I had set aside for the next couple of days and stepped out of my sweat pants. "Tanya, with the amount of clothing you have crammed into that closet or yours, you could probably go an entire year without having to do laundry," I paused to pull my sweatshirt up over my head, "and that's not including what you have stuffed in your drawers. I bet you could get another six months out of those."

Tanya yanked a pink and black striped v-neck top off its hanger and held it up for examination. "How about this one?" she asked, turning to face me with the shirt held up over her chest.

"I liked the other one better."

"The cami?" she asked, tossing the striped shirt on to the bed along with the other previously discarded tops, and picking up the pink vintage rose camisole she'd been trying on not two minutes earlier.

"Yeah, that one," I confirmed, pulling a black fitted tee down over my head and walking over to examine myself in the full-length mirror.

"Hmmm, I think you may be right," Tanya mused. "It makes my tits look bigger."

"It's a cute shirt," I agreed, looking at myself from side to side, trying to decide if my tummy was as noticeable as it felt.

Tanya walked up behind me in the mirror. "Bella, I don't think the baby has grown so much overnight that you would be able to notice a difference today." Her tone was assuring.

I lifted my shirt and ran my hands over my abdomen. "But I can _feel_ it."

"That's because you're so skinny." Tanya teased, feigning revulsion. "Maybe that baby will finally put some meat on your bones."

Tanya was the type of girl who believed that a woman's weight should have no bearing on the perception of beauty. She was five foot, six inches tall and a hundred and fifty-two pounds with long, wavy strawberry blond hair, and perky C-cup breasts. She wasn't thin, but she wasn't what you would call fat either. She had curves, and I envied her.

"Tanya, even if I did gain weight, I probably wouldn't look like you. It's all going to end up going right here," I said, patting my stomach. "Not flattering at all. I'll still be short, flat, and slender. The only difference is that I'll have a huge stomach with stretch marks to show afterward."

"Don't be so sure," Tanya disagreed. "Pregnancy changes you – your body. Some women who have been thin all their lives end up gaining a lot of weight and have a hard time taking it off after the baby is born. You've got to continue eating healthy, not just for you, but for the baby as well."

"And since when have you become an expert?" I asked, pulling my shirt down.

"I've been reading your _What To Expect_ book," she answered, matter-of-factly, "I find it interesting."

"Well, I find it terrifying." All those diagrams of the fetus curled upside-down in the woman's stretched out uterus, her stomach, liver, and intestines all shoved up against her diaphragm. Then there was the cervical dilatation in centimeters chart, shown in actual size, along with images to illustrate labor and delivery step-by-step. It was all enough to give me nightmares. It did give me nightmares! Stephen King had nothing on _What To Expect When You're Expecting_.

Tanya took no notice of my fretting. "I also read that one of the side effects of pregnancy can be bigger titties," she said, adjusting her cleavage in the mirror. "So see, not all the changes are bad."

My laugh was short and panicky. "Right, with my luck my boobs will shrink. Then I really will be flat-chested." I was only a B-cup, for crying out loud. Besides, I liked my body the way it was – I was comfortable in it – and I didn't want it to change.

"Calm down, Bella." Tanya said, handing me my purse. "Don't be such a pessimist."

I took a deep breath and sighed. I was letting my emotions get away from me.

"Come on, let's go eat. I can almost guarantee you'll feel better once you've eaten something substantial."

Of course Tanya was right. I'd felt much better – both mentally and physically – after I'd eaten a proper meal.

We had made it to the restaurant in plenty of time with only a handful of people ahead of us waiting to be seated. Dinner was quiet and relaxing. Tanya and I took our time eating, chatting about nothing in particular.

I was grateful for that.

More than anything all I wanted was for the night to be carefree – to not have to worry about everything that was going on in my life right now. I wanted to spend time with my friend, be young, watch movies, and eat munchies, talk and laugh. I was determined to keep the emotional rollercoaster under control. I put a smile on my face, talked, and laughed, and before I knew it, I was happy – really happy. I was enjoying myself.

"What about this one?" Tanya asked.

"I've seen that one."

"Damn it, woman! You've seen just about everything I've picked out so far."

"I'm sorry," I laughed. "How about this?"

"I heard that was dumb."

I set the movie I'd just been holding up back on the shelf and started scanning for another one I hadn't seen yet. Ah-ha! "What about this? I haven't seen this one yet. I hear it's freakin' hilarious."

"Oh yeah, I wanted to see that in theater, but I never got the chance."

"Sweet. So we agree?"

"We agree." Tanya confirmed.

"Alright, now we need one more. Any suggestions?"

"Hello ladies," said a male's voice from behind. "Can I help you find anything?"

"No thank you," I said without turning around. "We're just browsing."

"I could recommend something, if you're not sure what you're looking for."

I turned around to face the clerk, "That's okay…"

But he wasn't paying any attention to me; he was looking at Tanya – Tanya's bust to be exact.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked, batting her eyelashes and sticking her chest out further for him to ogle.

I rolled my eyes and groaned. Here we go.

"Well, there's this one over here," he said, walking towards the end of the aisle. "It's very popular amongst the females. The whole forbidden love thing." He winked at Tanya.

I laughed. I could see it now; dweeby video clerk takes strawberry blond boobs to the Seven-Eleven on Broadway. What an idiot. Tanya would never go for him. "We're not really looking for romance."

Tanya looked at me from the corner of her eye and smirked. "What about horror?" she asked. "Do you know any good horror flicks?"

"Right this way, Beautiful." He waved her forward in a sweeping gesture before leading her away by the small of her back.

As they were turning the corner into the horror section, Tanya looked back at me rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out in a "gag me" sort of expression.

I laughed again. This wouldn't be the first time Tanya suckered one of the less attractive clerks into giving her free movie rentals by flirting.

I started back down the new releases looking for something I could watch after Tanya passed out for the night. I'd been having trouble sleeping lately, and on most nights I found myself on the couch watching reruns of old family sitcoms. There was only so much Rosanne I could take.

I had just made it down to the M's and was about to pick up a title that looked interesting, when I heard a "tee-hee" coming from the opposite aisle.

"Tee-hee-hee, that tickles."

My annoyance flared. Damn adolescents.

I picked up the movie and flipped it over to read the back.

"Mmm, but baby you smell so good," came a soft male baritone.

I stopped dead, my chest constricting. I knew that voice – knew it well. In fact, I'd loved that voice. In times of passion it would have a slight throaty quality – in times like this.

I strained my ears, listening.

"Come on baby, forget the movies. Let's go home."

"But I thought you wanted to have a movie night?" the girl whined.

"I do…" He paused and there was a muffled smacking sound. "But what's the point? We're not going to watch them anyway."

It couldn't be. I was hearing things. We'd broken up only three weeks ago. He couldn't have moved on _that_ fast.

I placed the movie back on the shelf and silently tiptoed to the end of the aisle. I needed to prove to myself that it wasn't him.

Holding on to the edge of the shelves for balance, I slowly curled my body around the end of the new releases, poking my head into the next aisle just far enough for my eyes to see.

What I saw took my breath away.

Not only was it really him, but he had the girl pressed up against the shelves, one hand threaded into the back of her obviously dyed auburn hair, the other was at the skin of her waist, slightly tucked under the waistband of her Wal-Mart designer sweats.

"Come on baby, let's get out of here." He tugged on the elastic of her pants, his lips never leaving hers.

"Can't we at least go out for dinner?" she asked. "It is our three month anniversary."

Three? Month? Anniversary?

I'd seen and heard enough. My heart throbbed in my chest and in my haste to get away, I lost my balance and slipped, taking a small display of featured DVD's down with me. My palms and knees hit the carpet painfully, my hair spilling forward. I didn't bother to wait for the shock of the fall to subside. My joints screamed in protest as I scrambled hurriedly to my feet, sending DVDs skidding across the floor, and without looking to see if I'd been spotted, I turned tail and sprinted down the way I came.

I didn't bother to slow down as I practically flew around the corner into the horror section. Tanya, who had been staring off into space as the clerk rambled on about some video he held in his hand, jumped at the sight of me hurtling towards her.

"Bella?" she exclaimed.

"Come on," I said, grabbing her arm. The panic I felt was evident in my voice.

"Hey, what about your movies?" the clerk called after us.

"Bella, stop. What's wrong?" Tanya asked, ignoring him.

I didn't stop. All I wanted was to get as far away as I could. I pushed my way through the people standing in line at the checkout counter, and made for the exit with Tanya on my heels.

Once outside I allowed myself to slow to a fast walk. "He's in there, Tanya." I said, as I headed for the car.

"Who?" she asked, confused. "Bella, what's going on? You're kind of freaking me out here."

"Who do you think?" I snapped. I was angry. Not at Tanya, but at myself. I realized that despite everything he'd done, I was still holding on.

Tanya looked back towards the rental store trying to catch a glimpse of him through the windows.

"Let's just go." I didn't want to be in public when my anger wore off because the tears were sure to follow, and I'd already done enough to embarrass myself for one night.

Tanya pulled her keys from her purse and unlocked the doors. "Do you want to rent movies from a different place?" she asked, sliding into the driver's seat.

I shook my head "no" in response. My chin had already begun to quiver and I had to bite down on my lower lip to stop it. "I'm sorry, Tanya. Do you mind if we just go home?"

"Of course not," she replied sympathetically, pulling out of the parking lot.

I didn't talk the whole way home.

"So are you going to tell me what happened?" Tanya asked when we walked through the door to her apartment.

I headed straight for the kitchen. Halfway home I'd decided that I deserved comfort food for finding out that my ex had been cheating on me a whole two months prior to our break-up.

Tanya followed me. "Bella?"

I wrenched the freezer door open and pulled out a pint of Ben & Jerry's Half Baked ice cream. Then I grabbed myself the biggest spoon I could find. "He was there with another girl, Tanya."

Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

"She wanted him to take her out to dinner for their three month anniversary."

"No!" Her eyes bulged wide.

"Mmm-hmm," I confirmed, nodding my head.

"What an asshole!" Tanya declared. "Girl, I am so, so sorry." She pulled herself a spoon from the drawer.

"Thanks, but it's not your fault," I said, handing her the carton of ice cream.

"I know that, but I still feel bad."

I sighed. "Do you know I actually believed he would want this baby? Before I told him, I mean." I looked down at my stomach through the tears welling up in my eyes. "I was excited when I found out. I thought he would kiss me and tell me how much he loved me. I even dreamed about getting married _this_ summer. I just assumed we would be a family.

"Then after I told him I was pregnant and he made it clear that he had no interest in becoming a father, I hated him. I swear I wanted nothing to do with him. But what I didn't realize was that even though I told myself it was over, that I was done with him, I still hoped."

"What were you hoping for?" Tanya asked, sincere.

"I don't really know… maybe some part of me hoped that he would come around, that he was just scared."

"Would you have taken him back?"

"I don't know that either." I wished I could say I wouldn't have taken him back, but after seeing him, I realized that I probably would have. That is until I learned he had been cheating on me. "What I do know is that I didn't think he was capable of breaking my heart any more than he already had."

"He doesn't deserve you, Bella." Tanya said, her voice full of hatred. "And he sure as hell doesn't deserve that baby."

I looked up at her. "Tanya, _I_ don't deserve this baby."

"Why do you say that?" she asked, almost shocked.

"Look at me, Tanya; I'm twenty-three years old, single, I have no money, no current job, and no car. Not to mention I'm having to put off college just to move back home so my mommy can take care of me." My voice was getting louder with each shortcoming I named out loud, my tears burned with anger.

"Bella, just because a baby wasn't part of your plan at this point in your life, doesn't mean you don't deserve to have it. A baby is a gift. You've just got to decide what to do with it. You're not moving back home so your mommy can take care of you, you're moving back so you can learn to take care of yourself and your baby. Putting off your college career isn't a selfish act, Bella. It's a sacrifice."

"How am I supposed to provide for my baby, Tanya, if I don't finish school?"

"You plan to go back and finish after the baby is born, don't you?"

"Yes, I want to."

"Then do it," Tanya encouraged. "Finish school, become a chef, and someday you'll own your own restaurant."

"You make it sound so easy. What if I fail?"

"Honey, the only way you're going to fail is if you allow yourself to fail. If all you do after having this baby is sit at home, feel sorry for yourself, and mooch off your parents for the rest of your life – that would be failing.

I gave a half smile. "No, that's not part of my plan."

"Then you and your baby will be fine, just don't give up, okay?"

I took a deep breath and sighed. "Thanks, Tanya." I didn't know how right she was about everything, but her words gave me hope. I laughed, "Have you ever thought about becoming a counselor?"

Tanya laughed too. "I have actually, but I don't know how good I'd be if I knew people were depending on me to help fix their problems."

"I can understand that, I guess. Anyway, thanks for your help and support, I really appreciate it."

"Hey, that's what friends are for, and that's why I know your parents are happy you're going home. Families stick together, they help each other out."

I smiled and nodded. Yes, underneath all the anxiety, my mother was happy I was coming home. I couldn't deny that.

"Come on," Tanya said, grabbing a bag of unopened Twizzlers from the pantry, "We can see what's playing on HBO."

I picked the forgotten carton of ice cream up off the counter and followed her to the couch.

We spent the next hour watching _10 Things I Hate About You _and gorging ourselves on licorice and ice cream.

"Ugh!" I groaned, after the movie was over. "I feel like I just dipped my brain in sugar. I can't decide if I want to ricochet off the walls, or just fall over and pass out."

Tanya, who was now sprawled out on the floor in front of the TV, turned her head to look at me, "I'm leaning more towards passing out." She stretched her arms above her head and let out a massive yawn. "Would you mind?" she asked.

"No, go ahead. I'll just camp out here and watch TV until I knock out."

"Thanks," she said, dragging herself up off the floor. "I feel like I have no energy these days. It's pathetic. I feel so old."

I shook my head at her. "Tanya, you've been up since five AM. Go to bed."

She nodded. "I'll see you in the morning. Shopping tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't miss it. G'night."

"Sweet dreams," she replied, disappearing down the hallway.

I reached over to switch off the lamp before pulling a bright green knitted blanket off the back of the couch and propping my head up on an end pillow. The remote control lay abandoned on the floor, and instead of rolling off the couch to get it, I snuggled further down into the cushions and prepared to watch whatever HBO showed next. I didn't make it halfway through the opening credits to _The Blue Lagoon _before my mind started to wander.

It was a relief to have opened up and talked to Tanya – actually talked – about what was on my mind and not just an abbreviation of what I was feeling. I felt as though a large weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Or maybe it was because I'd finally let go and accepted that it really was over; he wasn't coming back. Whatever it was, I felt lighter, and for the first time in three weeks I fell asleep effortlessly.

* * *

What's your comfort food?


	2. Chapter Two: Going Home

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

A/N: I must apologize for how long it's taken me to post this chapter. I really am sorry! Six months is an incredibly long time to wait. Just so you know, I have rewritten this chapter twice. The first time was because I actually lost the document when I bought a new computer (I forgot to back up my fanfic files), and the second time was when I decided to take Edward's part out – I apologize for that as well. You will see Edward in the next chapter. I promise.

Also, just so there's never any confusion, I want you to know that I, in no way, plan to leave this fic unfinished. There will be an ending - you'll just be getting it on my own time.

Huge thanks to my girls, garbageandkneehighs and mystycblue. Also to my beta, beans827.

* * *

Inspiration Playlist:

1. Coming Undone by Korn

* * *

CHAPTER TWO – GOING HOME

POV: Bella

I woke up on Saturday morning to the warm doughy smell of freshly baked cookies wafting through the knitted holes of the blanket I was buried under. I inhaled deeply through my nose catching the sweet, yet salty, smell of peanut butter. My mouth watered and my stomach growled.

"Out of bed, sleepy head," I heard Tanya say, amused. "I see you poking your nose out from under there."

I opened my eyes, squinting against the bright morning rays that filtered through the window blinds, to look at Tanya standing over me holding a glass of milk in her hand.

"What time is it?" I asked, sitting up and kicking the blanket off with my legs. I stretched my arms high over my head and arched my back, yawning deeply. My spine cracked in protest and I slumped against the cushions with an audible huff.

"Just after seven-thirty," Tanya answered, handing me the milk along with two cookies.

"Oooh, thanks!" I exclaimed, taking the glass and cookies. I set my milk down on the coffee table and sunk my teeth into the first cookie. It was still soft and warm, the peanut butter melting on my tongue.

"No problem. Thanks to Aunt Flow I had some serious cravings this morning."

I laughed, taking another bite of cookie. "How long have you been up?"

"Since five-fifteen," Tanya replied, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table and propping her feet up on the couch.

"That's one thing I can honestly say I haven't had yet, and I hope I never get them."

"My mother craved mashed potatoes with sauerkraut while she was pregnant with me," Tanya stated.

I scrunched up my nose in disgust, "Ew."

"Mmm-hmmm," Tanya said, nodding her head in agreement.

"I'll have to ask my mom if she had any cravings with me. I've never thought to ask her before." I picked up my glass and drained half of the milk, washing away the sweetness of the cookie.

"With my brother, my mom craved tuna and strawberry jam sandwiches."

"Now, that is _really_ disgusting…" I shoved the second smaller cookie into my mouth whole, chewed and swallowed before continuing, "...I can't even stand the smell of tuna, let alone eat it." Tuna was second on my most hated foods list, right under carrots and parsnips.

"The tuna I don't mind," Tanya disagreed. "It's the strawberry that makes me want to gag. The flavor of strawberries is okay for things like candy, but I can't stand the actual fruit."

"I love strawberries," I said simply, downing the last of my milk. "Thank you for those. They were really good."

"You're welcome. There's some fresh cut up fruit on the kitchen counter if you want something a little healthier. We should probably start getting ready, though. You have to be to the airport in four hours."

"I know," I sighed, sinking further down into the cushions.

Tanya frowned at me, her eyebrows pulling together, "Is Forks really so bad?" she asked.

I looked up with a small smile and shook my head, "No, not really. I'm just going to miss it here - the heat, the sun, the sky – you don't get to see much of those things in Forks."

Tanya stood, offering a hand to pull me up. "Sounds nice. I could use a break from all this heat."

"Trust me," I said, taking her hand. "One week in Forks and you'll be begging for the dry heat of Phoenix."

"We'll see," she said, smiling.

I picked my blanket up off of the floor, folded it, and tossed it over the back of the couch. "Do you really think you'll come to visit?" I asked. Tanya and I had talked a little over the past couple of days about her coming to visit me in Forks around the time the baby would be due, but I wasn't sure how serious she was about these plans. "Because I'm really going to miss you." My voice cracked.

Tanya looked at me with a sad expression on her face before reaching out and pulling me into a tight hug, "Bella, you're one of the few people I consider to be family. Of course I'll come to visit. I wouldn't miss you having this baby for the world."

I felt the tears well up and spill over. "I'm so glad to have met you, Tanya," I replied over the lump in my throat.

"Hey now," Tanya cautioned, pulling away, her eyes wet. "There will be none of that. You don't want to catch a plane all teary eyed and blotchy faced, do you?"

"I'm sorry," I sniffled, wiping the streaks from my cheeks. "I can't help it."

Tanya laughed, wiping her own tears away with the tips of her fingers. "It must be all those crazy hormones."

I smiled at Tanya's attempt to lighten the mood, and shook my head. "I'd be crying regardless; I've never been good at saying goodbye. What's your excuse?"

"I don't want you to go," she suddenly sobbed, pulling me into another hug. "I am going to miss you so much! Promise me you'll call and keep me updated?"

"Of course I will," I said, bobbing my head.

She leaned back, holding me at arms length, "And pictures? I want monthly photos of your belly."

I laughed, "Not a problem. Renee is into scrapbooking, so I'm sure she'll be taking plenty of photos."

"Good, don't forget," Tanya said, reaching for the box of Kleenex sitting on the closest end table. "Here," she handed me a couple of tissues, "before we really turn into a couple of blubbering idiots."

I used the tissues to blow my nose, but I didn't bother to dry my tears. It was much too late for that; I was already a blubbering idiot.

I gave Tanya another quick hug, squeezing her tightly for the briefest moment. "I'm going to go ahead and take a shower," I said, stepping back. "Do you need to use the bathroom first, or anything?'

"No, I'm fine. Take your time."

I headed down the hallway, grabbing myself a clean towel from the linen closet before shutting myself in the bathroom. One look in the mirror told me Tanya was right, my complexion was doomed for the day. Why did I have to be such an ugly crier? The moment my emotions hit the overwhelming point my eyes and nose turned pink, and splotches appeared on my neck, cheeks, and forehead.

I sighed. It didn't matter what I looked like anyway.

Setting my towel down on the counter, I stripped off my clothes and picked up my bottle of face wash before ripping the curtain back on the shower stall. I turned on the tap as hot as my body could stand, and stepped inside. The water poured from Tanya's rainfall style showerhead, soaking my hair and cascading down my back and chest. Steam filled the stall and I breathed deeply taking in the scent of orchids and coconut milk from my shampoo as I worked it into a rich lather.

Using my fingertips to gently massage my scalp, I closed my eyes and willed away some of the tension I was feeling. I knew this day was going to be hard. I expected it to be. Like I'd told Tanya, I'd never been good at saying goodbye – though I knew my future was no longer here in Phoenix.

The events of Wednesday night had allowed me to let go of the last few months and start making plans for the future that lie ahead of me. My main goal was to not allow this pregnancy to stop me from completing school. I'd already achieved a degree in the culinary arts, but I was still one year away from receiving an administrative degree in Food and Beverage Operations, and three years plus an internship away from a bachelor's degree in business. I only needed to keep a positive frame of mind and not doubt myself.

This was easier said than done.

When it came to my future as a mother, I had nothing but doubts. The thought of any one person's survival depending solely on me scared the shit out of me. I was an only child – never having younger siblings to look after – and the only infant I'd ever had to care for was made of plastic. My sophomore year's child development project was a life-size doll with a computerized voice box that was programmed to go off at random intervals. When the baby would cry, I had to insert a metal key that the teacher had strapped around my wrist into the baby's back in order to "feed it" – shut it up was more like it. The computerized box recorded things like feeding times, missed feedings, bumps, drops, and shakes – and though I never actually came close to shaking my baby, the computer screen on report day clearly read that my infant had shaken baby syndrome.

Of course, I had Renee and Charlie for help – as Renee had told me numerous times – but this was the part I was having the most trouble accepting. Not only would I have to rely on my parents throughout my pregnancy, but I would also have to rely on them further to help me with the baby while I went back to school. It seemed like too much.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back allowing the water to pour down over my face while rinsing the soap from my hair and body. Using my hands to push the remaining suds from my arms and torso, I flinched when I unthinkingly palmed one of my breasts.

"Ah," I groaned, reflexively holding my arms out to the side. I'd read about breast changes and tenderness during pregnancy, but I couldn't believe just how sensitive my boobs actually were. It was just one more reason to look forward to the second trimester when it was said that some of the less desirable effects of pregnancy would diminish. Although I had to admit that my nausea had been practically non-existent over the last two days, and I wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that I was now less stressed than I had been a few days ago. Whatever the reason, I was thankful.

I took another couple of minutes to relax under the hot running water before reaching down to turn off the nozzle and stepping out of the shower. Wrapping my towel securely under my arms, I picked up my pile of dirty laundry and took a deep breath – mentally preparing myself – before walking out of the bathroom and down the hallway to Tanya's bedroom where I would dress and finish packing my few remaining belongings. Then it was lunch, and off to the airport…

"Ladies and Gentlemen, flight seventy-nine to Seattle-Tacoma, Washington will begin boarding in just a few short minutes. Our first class passengers, those in need of assistance or those traveling with small children may begin pre-boarding now at gate twenty-one"

"That's me," I said, looking down at my ticket. "I'd better get going."

Tanya held her arms out for one last hug before I walked through security. "Have a safe flight, Bella. Call me tonight when you get settled so I know you got there safely."

"I will," I agreed. "Thanks for everything, Tanya. I really appreciate you letting me stay with you the past three weeks."

"Hey, not a problem. It was nice having somebody around to talk to."

I sighed and pulled away, "So, I'll see you in six months?"

"Count on it."

I smiled, giving Tanya a nod and a small wave.

Security was a pain, as it usually is, but luck was on my side and the line was short. I placed my shoes and hoodie into a plastic bin and set it on the electronic belt to be carried through the baggage scanner before walking through the giant metal detectors. Once on the other side, I hurriedly slipped my feet back into my shoes and took off running down the long terminal towards my designated gate.

I made it with seconds to spare.

Locating my seat next to a window in the twelfth row, I proceeded to make myself comfortable for the four-hour flight ahead of me. Pulling my iPod from a pocket in my hoodie, I inserted an earbud into each ear before kicking off my shoes and pulling my knees up to rest my heels on the edge of the seat.

As the flight attendants moved up and down the aisles helping passengers and checking storage compartments, I gazed lazily out the window at the tremulous waves of heat emanating from the burning blacktop. The current temperature in Phoenix was a stale one hundred and three degrees. My hoodie was for when I reached Forks, where the high never reached above seventy-five and it was guaranteed to rain at least three days out of the week.

It wasn't until the plane slowly began to move - gradually making its way towards the runway - that I felt the first real twinges of excitement.

Take off was my favorite part of flying.

I leaned forward against the plane's building momentum as we sped down the runway so that I could continue to look out the window. The colors of the different airliners sitting idle on the tarmac seemed to blur as we raced by, and I found myself aimlessly counting each one until the wind caught under the wings of the plane, lifting it into the air and pressing me down into my seat as Sky Harbor International fell away. The Valley of the Sun spread out before my eyes, shimmering in the bright sunlight, and before I could get too emotional I closed my eyes and hit play on my iPod, the voice of Justin Furstenfeld filling my head as I silently said my goodbyes to Phoenix.

. . .

"_Bella!" _

I heard the screaming of my name before I'd even gotten one foot out of the cruiser. Looking up I saw a mop of dark curls running towards the driveway – Jessica. Following closely behind her was Renee and Angela.

I smiled and hurriedly stumbled out of the car just in time for Jessica to round the front bumper and slam into me.

"You're finally here. It's so good to see you," she said, throwing her arms around me and squeezing.

"Hey, Jess." I hugged her back, though not as enthusiastically. The drive from Port Angeles to Forks had made me a bit queasy, and Jessica's body slam hadn't helped.

"There she is," I heard a soft voice say.

Jessica stepped back, allowing Angela room for a hug.

"How was your flight?" Angela asked after giving me a small squeeze.

"Not too bad," thanks to my iPod, noise-cancelling headphones, and hoodie. The woman who'd sat next to me had had a bit of a cough and preferred to use her sleeve as a hankie, insisting the napkins the airline provided were unsanitary. I'd leaned as far away from her as possible – giving her full use of the armrest – and claimed that I was tired as I pulled up my hoodie, inconspicuously trying to shield myself from the oncoming spray of germs and snot covered sleeves.

"We're glad you made it safely," Angela said, standing back next to Jessica.

"Yes, we are," Renee chimed in. "Somebody forgot to give me a call before they boarded the plane." She folded her arms across her chest and started tapping her foot in a "what do you have to say for yourself" manner.

"No… No…" I stuttered, shaking my head and pointing towards Charlie who was standing at the back end of the cruiser. "I called. Dad answered. Didn't he tell you?"

My mother smiled and let her arms drop. "Of course your father told me, but you didn't call _me_," she explained.

"Ah… I'm sorry, mom." I walked the two steps between us and threw my arms around her.

"I'm glad you're home," she replied, and even though her voice didn't so much as waver, I knew she was crying.

"Me too…" I breathed, and it wasn't a lie. Being back in my mother's arms instantly made me feel safe, like everything would be okay, and I wanted to kick myself for thinking otherwise.

"Alright," I heard Charlie say, clearing his throat. "I think we should all head inside before it starts to rain."

I looked up at the sky and frowned. Aside from the usual clouds that constantly hung over the Olympic Peninsula, it was a beautiful day in Forks. Then I got it. Nothing made Charlie more uncomfortable than displays of emotion; he tried to avoid them at all costs. Both Renee and I laughed.

"Good idea, Dad," I agreed, giving Renee a small kiss on the cheek before pulling away. "I'm not used to the rain anymore."

Charlie gave me a small smile as he unlocked the trunk of his police cruiser where my bags were crammed. Somehow I'd managed to pack everything I'd obtained over my three years away from home into four large suitcases.

"Why don't you let us help you with those, Chief?" Jessica offered, walking over to where Charlie had one foot on the bumper and was preparing himself to heave.

"I've got it. You girls go on ahead."

"Thank you, Dad." I placed a kiss on one of my fingertips and pressed it softly to his cheek before following Renee, Jessica, and Angela into the house.

"Something smells good," I said when I walked through the front door. Everything in my parent's house still looked the same. I wasn't sure why. It had only been a little over a year since the last time I'd been home, but I expected things to look different. It was like time didn't exist in this place. It still looked the same way it had the day I'd left for college. I found comfort in this. While everything else in my life had changed so rapidly, I was glad something had remained the same.

"I made your favorite," Renee said, following me into the kitchen. "Banana nut bread. I thought you might like some. It's still warm."

Sitting atop one of the small kitchen counters was a cooling rack laden with three large loaves of golden brown bread.

"Wow, Mom. You didn't have to do that."

"Well, don't get too excited," she said, smiling. "You have to share. One is for Angela and Ben, and one is for Jess and Mike. The other is just for you."

I walked over to the counter smiling. "Well, I suppose I could share…" I teased, tearing off a corner of one of the loaves with my fingers. "…but only because it's Ang and Jess. If it were anybody else, they'd be SOL." I took a bite and closed my eyes. "Mmm," something else familiar. Renee made the best banana nut bread, "Delicious."

My moment of bliss was interrupted by a series of loud bangs, followed by, "_Shit!"_

My eyes popped open and the four of us looked at each other before running out of the kitchen and into the entryway. At the bottom of the stairs was one of my suitcases. I looked up to see Charlie tromping down the steps.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle anyone. I lost my grip and it tumbled down the stairs," he explained, pointing at my suitcase. "I hope you didn't pack anything breakable."

I shook my head, "Nope." Though, that was the suitcase that held a Tupperware container full of the peanut butter cookies Tanya had made for breakfast. I hoped they weren't crumbs.

"Let us get this one for you, Chief," Jessica said, reaching down and standing my suitcase up by the handle.

"Yeah, Dad, take a load off. We'll get this one," I agreed, taking a hold next to Jessica.

"Humph," Charlie crossed his arms and stomped off, heading towards the couch. "What did you pack in there, anyway? Lead?"

Close. "Just my collection of leather bound classics," I smiled.

"Great," Jessica replied. "Why didn't you tell me I'd be dragging Shakespeare's fat ass up the stairs _before_ I volunteered?"

I laughed, "You never asked…"

Once up in my room, Jessica and I dropped my suitcase by the door and flopped down on my four-poster bed sending a cloud of dust into the air.

"I can't believe you still have the same bed after all this time," Jessica coughed, fanning the dust away from her face with one hand while reaching out to touch the three sets of worn initials carved into the bottom left post with the other.

"Oh wow," Angela exclaimed. "Those are still there? That was so long ago."

"How old were we?" Jessica asked. "Eleven? Twelve?"

"Ten." I answered.

"No, we weren't that young."

"Yes, remember? We were in fifth grade - it was the day we all jumped off the swings at recess-"

"That's right!" Angela stood up from where she'd sat down at my desk and walked over to the bed, placing her hand on the bedpost beside Jessica's. "It was the day we made our pact to always remain friends."

"Oh yeah…" Jessica mused. "The pact that said together we could do anything, even fly."

"Well, I guess we were wrong about the flying part," Angela commented. "Because that was also the same day Bella broke her leg."

I nodded my head, "Yes it was. They had to call an ambulance to get me off the playground, and Charlie – having heard the call on his scanner – showed up with them, completely panicked."

"Then later that afternoon," Jessica continued, "Ang and I came over to see how you were doing and instead of signing your cast – because that would eventually come off – we decided to carve our initials into your bedpost with a metal compass as a mark of our friendship."

"It's a good thing too," Angela quipped. "If we had continued to jump off playground equipment as a vow to each other, Bella would have eventually run out of body parts to break."

"Oh please," I whined, feigning insult. "I would have been fine if Jess hadn't landed on top of me."

"Well, if you would have completely let go of the chains on 'three', you might not have flung yourself into my flight path." Jessica shot back.

"The point is," Angela cut in, taking a seat on the bed, "fourteen years later, we are still friends and we're still here for each other."

"That's right," Jessica agreed, turning toward me. "Now spill your guts, girlie."

Damn. I knew this was coming, but I didn't think they'd attack me right away. I groaned audibly, "Now?"

Two sets of eyes looked at me expectantly.

I rolled my eyes at them. "Fine – but I don't know what you want me to tell you. You already know just about everything."

"You mean just about nothing," Jessica complained, crossing her arms over her chest.

"_Jess_," Angela chided.

Jessica huffed and flopped back on the bed, her arms still crossed.

"I promise you, Bella, your mom didn't tell us anything when we talked to her, other than the fact that you were pregnant and coming home. "

"She wasn't even supposed to tell you that much," I said, belligerent.

Angela looked down at her hands resting in her lap while Jessica, who had been staring up at the ceiling, propped herself up on her elbows to look at me.

"Bella, why didn't you want us to know?" she asked.

"I already told you. I'm embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" Angela asked. "About the baby?"

I sighed. "No, not about the baby - though I'm not exactly excited to be pregnant either. I'm embarrassed about everything that happened after I found out I was pregnant."

"You mean with the baby's f- …donor?" Jessica caught herself.

I felt the corners of my mouth turn up slightly, more of a twisted grimace than an actual smile. "Yeah, I guess you could call him that." A donor was exactly what he was now.

"Bella, what he did is not your fault." Angela tried to reassure me.

I sighed. "I know that now… but for a while there, I thought that maybe there was something I could have done, you know? Like giving him more time… but I realize now that it wasn't anything I did, or didn't do… it wasn't even the baby, I don't think… he just wanted out."

"What makes you say that?" Jessica asked.

I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. Both Jessica and Angela were looking at me with anxious eyes and I found myself turning away, unable to withstand the weight of their stare, to look out the window at the setting sky.

"Bella?" Angela almost whispered. "You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

I stood up, incapable of sitting still any longer, and walked over to my desk where I picked up an old black and white Magic 8 Ball. "I caught him with another woman," I said, wiping the dust off the toy with my hands.

Angela's mouth formed a small O, while Jessica muttered, "Prick," under her breath.

I nodded my head. "At Blockbuster the other night. We'd already been apart for three weeks, but from what I overheard, he's been with another girl for at least three months."

"I am so sorry, Bella." Angela replied sympathetically.

I shrugged. "It's okay… really. It's what I needed, I think – to let go of him."

"What a fucking pig!" Jessica was now sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands wrapped around the neck of one of my old, ragged stuffed animals.

"Jess, please put Mr. Darcy down. He didn't do anything wrong."

Jessica looked down at her hands as though she'd been completely unaware of her actions. She placed the threadbare teddy bear back on my pillow and straightened the cravat he wore around his neck, "Sorry about that, Sir, I didn't mean to ruffle your tailcoat."

Angela and I laughed, and Jessica, purposefully having lightened the mood, joined in.

"What are you girls giggling about in here?"

I looked up to see Renee standing in the doorway – she couldn't have been there long – with her hair pulled up into a messy bun and an apron wrapped around her waist. "We were just talking. What's up, mom?"

"I'm about to start dinner," she said, stepping into the room. "Spaghetti, I hope that's okay?"

I nodded my head, "Sounds great." I only hoped I'd be able to keep it down, my nausea seemed to be getting worse – no doubt caused by the tension I was beginning to feel.

"Will you girls be joining us?" she asked Jessica and Angela.

"Mmmm, I'm in." Jessica replied quickly. "Mike already made plans to cook without me. I didn't give him a time as to when I would be home."

"Alright. That's one," Renee smiled. "Angela, how about you?"

"Thank you for asking, Mrs. Swan, but I've already made plans with Ben to have dinner with his parents tonight."

"That's alright, dear, maybe next time. You know you're always welcome."

Angela nodded her head and smiled.

"I'll let you girls know when dinner is done." Renee bid, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her.

I looked back to Angela who now had her cell phone in her hands and was rapidly hitting keys with her thumbs. "Ben said he would be here around six-thirty to pick me up," she said, glancing at her watch. "That's in fifteen minutes."

"Okay, before Ben gets here, tell us. Did you confront him?" Jessica continued with our previous conversation.

I shook my head, "No." I was too chicken for that. "It wouldn't have made any difference anyway. All I would have been doing is torturing myself."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Jessica agreed. "Still, I would _love_ to give that asshole a piece of my mind."

"Not all of us are as argumentative as you are," Angela commented. "And if I recall correctly, even you had a hard time confronting Mike after he left you."

Jessica stuck her tongue out Angela. "Why do you always have to bring up old shit?"

"I was just making a point," Angela shrugged with a smile.

"So, what are you asking the Magic 8 Ball?" Jessica asked, turning back to me.

I looked down at the toy I'd been absentmindedly rolling around in my hands, "I don't know," I answered, turning the ball over so the 8 was facing upward. "How about…" Will I be a bad mother? "Will the Cowboys make it to the Super Bowl this year?" I gave the Magic 8 Ball a shake then turned it over to read the answer, "Signs point to yes." Perfect…

"That's not a question," Jessica snapped, jumping up off the bed and snatching the toy from my hands.

"Yeah," Angela agreed. "The question has to be about your life…"

It was.

"…not sports. Besides, you don't even like sports."

"What do you think is a good question, Ang?" Jessica asked, stroking her fingers over the smooth plastic in mock mysticism.

I forced out a laugh. "How old are you two? Thirteen?"

"Well, what's the one question every girl wants to know?" Angela replied to Jessica, wagging her eyebrows.

Jessica smirked and upped her act by putting on a whimsical voice, "Spirits from the Other Side, we call upon thee on this cloudy evening to guide us in our time of need. Please, reveal to us, will Isabella Marie Swan find true love in this lifetime?"

I rolled my eyes, typical.

Giving the ball a shake for good measure, Jessica flipped it over to reveal the answer, "Outlook not so good." She frowned and gave it another shake, "How about in the next life?"

"Give me that-" I reached for the ball.

Hopping onto the bed and out of reach, Jessica examined the toy, "Don't count on it," she read.

Next to me, Angela was laughing. "Tough break," she snorted.

"Looks like you're going to be single for quite a while," Jessica teased, sliding off the bed and setting the Magic 8 Ball back in its place on my desk.

I shrugged. "It's just as well. It may take me longer than two lifetimes to trust another man anyway."

"Jess was just teasing, Bella. You know that, right?"

I sighed. Was I that obvious? "Yeah, Ang. Besides, it's just a toy."

Before either Jessica or Angela could make another comment, the sound of the doorbell chimed throughout the house.

"Oh, that must be Ben," Angela started. "Sorry I can't stay longer, Bella, but I'll give you a call. Hopefully we can all find time to get together over the week so Jess and I can fill you in on the daycare before you start."

"Sounds like a plan," I agreed, though I still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of working in childcare. "Come on, we'll walk you down."

We continued to chat as we all walked down the stairs and Jessica filled me in about an opening for a part time job at a small bookshop I had worked at as a teenager.

"It's only for a couple of hours every other day," she said, "and I know you probably don't want to work two jobs, but I thought I'd at least let you know considering how much you used to love working at that mind numbing place."

"Ever since Old Man Aro had a stroke a few months back, his youngest son, Alec, has been managing the bookstore," Angela informed me. "He's a bigoted man who would love nothing more than to sell the bookstore –"

"Or blast it to smithereens," Jessica interrupted breezily.

"Is Aro still around?" I asked, concerned. Aro was the owner of the small bookshop called All That's Fit To Print and he had given me my first job. He was a loveable old coot with a passion for literature.

"Oh he's around," Jessica answered. "He spends most of his time hobbling around the bookstore rearranging the shelves and muttering the occasional nonsense."

"Alec won't sell the store while his father is alive," Angela continued. "As much as he detests the place, he continues to entertain Aro as he goes through the motions of a routine he's followed for the majority of his life."

"That's kind of sweet of him," I commented.

Jessica shook her head. "It's obvious Alec loves his father, but the man could be a little more tolerable. Instead he wears a permanent scowl and barks orders at the help, he's rude to the customers, and when Aro is having a particularly bad day, he's a downright cock sucking asshole."

"Jess!" Angela reproached.

Jessica shrugged. "Alec has successfully run off three employees in the last two months – mostly high school students looking for an afternoon job."

"Well I don't know about working there," I said, "but I'll definitely have to stop by sometime to see Aro. Does he remember people?"

"He seems to," Angela confirmed, "but he doesn't always speak to them coherently."

"Good evening, ladies."

Waiting at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a pair of relaxed jeans and a knit v-neck sweater, was Ben – Angela's one and only. They'd been together since freshmen year.

"Hey, Honey," Angela said, stepping onto the landing and wrapping her arms around her husband. "Just give me a moment to gather my things and I'll be ready to go."

Giving Angela a small peck on the cheek, Ben nodded as Angela rushed into the kitchen.

"Bella," he greeted, turning towards me, "it's great to see you again. How was your flight?"

"You too," I said, giving him a quick hug. "It was good, but I'm glad it's over now."

Ben nodded towards Jessica, "We're all glad you made it safely."

"Yes we are," Jessica agreed, throwing her arm around my shoulders, "and we're never going to let her go again, are we?"

"Run, Bella," he teased. "Run while you still can."

"She wouldn't be able to run fast enough," Angela taunted, appearing next to Ben caring a loaf of banana bread wrapped in foil. "We'd hunt her down and drag her back. Wouldn't we, Jess?"

Jessica nodded her head in agreement, "Yup."

"Now, girls, do you honestly think I'd allow my only daughter to walk out that door?" Renee questioned, following Angela into the room. "No, I certainly would not. Now that she's home, I have every intention of keeping her here as long as possible."

"Wow, you guys really know how to make a girl feel smothered," I joked.

Ben dropped his voice and leaned in to whisper close to me, "You should have run while you had the chance."

Angela slapped him playfully on the arm, "Come on, we're going to be late."

Ben nodded, "You're right. Until next time, ladies."

"Have a wonderful evening you two," Renee replied.

"Bye, Jess. Bye, Bella. I'll call you," Angela said.

The three of us waved as they walked out the door and a part of me wished Jessica had gone with them. As good as it was to see her again, all I really wanted was to hide up in my room and just be alone. I wasn't hungry anymore. In fact, my stomach seemed to be growing more agitated by the second.

"Bella, honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah," I replied, turning to look at Renee. "Do you need help with anything?"

Renee looked back at me anxiously.

"I'm okay," I insisted.

"Alright. Well, if you girls don't mind, I could use your help watching over the stove while I make a quick run to the market. I forgot to pick up some French bread."

"Bella and I could pick some up for you, if you like?" Jessica offered.

"Bella?"

"Sure," I nodded. If I couldn't escape to my room, then perhaps a little fresh air would help.

"Thank you, girls. I appreciate it. You saved me from having to put shoes on my feet."

I smiled, "Don't mention it, Mom." Renee didn't like to wear anything on her feet, and preferred to run around barefoot. Whenever she had to go somewhere, she would slip on the pair of ratty flip-flop sandals she kept on the floorboards of her old Chevy truck – regardless of the weather.

"We'll be back soon," Jessica said, pulling her keys from her pocket.

Just as we were about to walk out the door, Charlie called, "Be careful," from his position on the couch. I hadn't realized he'd been awake and paying attention.

Smiling, I called back, "Always am," before closing the door behind me.

"It looks like it's going to rain," Jessica said, as I climbed into the front seat of her car. She still drove the same old Honda Prelude that had belonged to her mother when we were younger – though it hadn't always been black.

"You got a new paint job," I stated the obvious. "When?"

"Last summer. Mike surprised me for my birthday."

"I like it," I said. "Much better than the silver it used to be"

"I do too," she replied. "Wait until you see the new car Tyler bought Lauren. I am so jealous. I would like to have gotten a new car..." Jessica sighed. "Maybe next year."

"How is Lauren?" I asked. Unlike the rest of us, Lauren didn't grow up in Forks. She'd been forced to move here to live with her grandparents after her mother died in a car accident when she was fifteen. Jessica, Angela and I were Lauren's first real friends at Forks High School as most of our class considered her to be rude. Lauren was what you would call candid; she was truthful and straightforward, never sugarcoating – as she got older she learned to bite her tongue.

"Good. She and Tyler are finally getting married this coming February."

"That's wonderful," I said, my heart aching just enough to put a slight quiver into my voice.

Jessica ignored it, "Mmm-hmm. She'll be going back to school this fall; that's why she quit the daycare – but Ang already told you that. She kept her part-time job at Thriftway, but once she goes back to school she doesn't plan to work at all. Tyler makes enough money working for some construction company in Seattle. They plan to move down there after the wedding."

"Is she working tonight?" I asked wearily. I wasn't sure I had enough energy to muster up the proper emotions to congratulate Lauren on her engagement if I ran into her.

Jessica shook her head. "No, she only works Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays."

I breathed a sigh of relief as we pulled into the parking lot at Thriftway. Next door was Newton's Olympic Outfitters. Originally owned by Bob and Karen Newton, Jessica's husband, Mike, had taken over management a years ago when his father died of a heart attack.

"How's business been?" I asked Jessica.

"Good," Jessica replied. "Slow during the winter, but things usually pick up once spring rolls around; I guess nobody wants to go hiking when it's below thirty outside."

I felt the first raindrops as we stepped out of the car and groaned. I had been hoping the rain would hold off until we at least made it home. Apparently that was asking too much.

Jessica chuckled, "After living in the desert for three years I bet all this rain is going to get old real quick."

I looked up at the twilit sky and shook my head. "It's already old," I grumbled.

Jessica smiled. "You'll get used to it again."

"Yeah, I suppose."

We walked through the automatic sliding doors and into the warmth of the grocery store. Picking up a shopping basket at the entrance we headed for the bakery.

"I should probably warn you," Jessica said, as I was placing a loaf of bread into the basket. "Eric is working tonight."

"Eric Yorkie?" I asked.

Jessica nodded.

"Ugh." I rolled my eyes. Eric had been my very first boyfriend – we dated for a week in seventh grade. In that small amount of time Eric had deluded himself into believing we were somehow meant to be – soul mates he told people. That was until our sophomore year when he decided to perform and dedicate the song "Always and Forever" by Heatwave to me in front of the whole school at that year's Lip Sync; an end of the year production put on by the drama club where students could sign up and perform their favorite songs on stage. In the middle of Eric's performance, I stood up and walked out of the auditorium, the whole school giggling and pointing. The next day I told him how much he had embarrassed me and that I never wanted to see his face again. He left me alone after that, but on graduation day he signed my yearbook 'always and forever'.

Jessica laughed, obviously thinking the same thing I was. "Don't worry," she said. "He's over you. He found someone new."

"Who?" I asked, heading up an aisle with refrigerated beverages. I picked an apple juice off the shelf and placed it in the basket with the French bread.

"Katie Marshal," Jessica answered. "_Oh_, and speaking of old boyfriends, did you hear about Austin?"

We were heading back towards the front of the store to checkout when I got the strangest feeling in my stomach – a fluttering. At that same moment the nausea I'd been feeling began to fade.

"Bella? Did you hear what I said?"

"Huh," I replied dumbly. The sensation was growing stronger as it spread up through my chest making it difficult to focus on anything besides the butterflies invading my body.

"Austin?" Jessica repeated herself.

"Oh, sorry." I shook my head to clear it. "What happened to Austin?"

"He died in a motorcycle accident last month," Jessica answered, giving me a puzzled look as we got in line at the checkout counter.

"That's horrible," I replied, reaching out to steady myself on a rack of magazines as the fluttering had now spread through my entire abdomen and throat causing me to become light headed.

"Are you feeling okay?" Jessica asked, holding her arm out as though she were preparing herself to catch me if I fell.

"I'm alright," I replied. "It's just my stomach – it keeps getting worse. I was feeling nauseated before, but now the nausea seems to have turned into more of a fluttering. It's making me light headed."

Normally I would have kept how I was feeling to myself – downplayed it – but I was starting to fear that I wasn't going to be able to walk out of the store.

"Is it indigestion?" Jessica asked.

Maybe. "I'm not sure, but I think I'll buy some Tums, just in case." I would try anything if there were the slightest chance it might make this feeling go away. "I'll be right back."

I lurched forward, unsteadily heading in the direction of the pharmacy. I kept my one arm – the one not carrying the shopping basket – out to the side for balance and took deep breaths as I went.

Surprisingly the fluttering began to fade – dwindling more and more as I continued to walk further away from the checkout line towards the far side of the store.

"Bella?"

I turned the corner into the pharmaceutical aisle and stopped. The fluttering was completely gone. I took a few more breaths and waited. Nothing – not even the nausea.

"Hey!" Jessica said, standing beside me. "Do I, like, need to take you to the doctor or something?"

I waited a moment before answering. "No, I'm fine. I think."

Jessica gave me a dubious look, "Are you sure?"

I nodded – I was still waiting for either one or both of the symptoms to return, but my stomach didn't so much as stir.

"Well did you hear what I said about baking soda?" Jessica asked.

"Baking soda?"

"Sure," Jessica replied, walking over to where the antacids were located. "I used it for heartburn while I was pregnant with Bree."

I picked one of the small orange boxes off the shelf to examine it. "I guess I could give it a try," I agreed, reading the mixing instructions.

"I'm telling you, that stuff works miracles."

"I'm not sure I actually need it anymore, Jess." I placed the box back on the shelf. "It's strange, but I feel fine now." Physically fine, anyway. Mentally I was anything but. If I could buy something to cure my heartache, I would. An anesthetic that would numb me until I healed – plunge it right into my chest.

Jessica placed her hands on her hips, "I don't understand how you can be stumbling around dizzy one second and fine the next."

I shook my head, "I don't know either. I'm still waiting for it to come back."

"Well, I would at least buy some of these," she said, grabbing a roll of peppermint flavored Rolaids off the shelf and holding them out to me. "Just in case. You know?"

I took the antacids from her outstretched hand and tossed them in the basket, "Okay." Better safe than sorry, Charlie liked to say, though I wasn't completely sold on the idea that what I had experienced was actually indigestion.

There was no line to wait in once we made it back to the checkout counter. I placed my basket on the conveyor belt and pulled a small metal cardholder from my pocket; my purse was still packed in one of my suitcases having decided not to carry it on the plane.

"Well, if it isn't Isabella Swan; the girl who broke my heart."

Jessica muttered under her breath, "Woe, woe, woe."

"Hello, Eric," I replied, zipping up my hoodie.

Eric still looked the same as I remembered him; overly pale with slick black hair and bad skin.

"Did you find everything you needed?"

I nodded and handed him a ten dollar bill.

"Have a great night," he said, handing me my change and bag.

"You too."

Jessica giggled as we were walking out of the store, "Well, that was slightly awkward."

"Do you think he's wondering why I'm back?"

Jessica shook her head, "Why would he be? He probably thinks you're just visiting."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Besides, does it matter what Eric thinks?"

"Not really," I lied, sliding into the passenger seat. I knew if I told Jessica that it did matter to me, she would think I was crazy, and I wasn't in the mood to try and explain myself. Eric was never more than an unwanted admirer to me, but he was a good person. Had I given him a chance, I knew that he would never have left me alone pregnant with his child.

On the drive back, Jessica continued to update me on everything I'd missed since the last time I'd been home. Now that I could focus on more than the strange things my body was putting me through, I was shocked to learn about the death of my old boyfriend, Austin Marks. We'd dated throughout most of our senior year, attending prom together that spring – Austin had been my first.

"…He was driving his bike out on Elk Creek. Connor said he'd been drinking. Dr. Cullen pronounced him dead on arrival."

"Dr. Cullen?"

"Mmm-hmm. The Cullens moved to town about two years ago. Dr. Cullen took over in the Emergency Room when Dr. Gerandy retired."

"Oh, I didn't realize Dr. Gerandy had gone."

Jessica nodded, "He was a good doctor. He and his wife are living on a beach in Florida now – lucky bastard."

Dinner went much the same way. Renee told me about her part-time job at the Flower Shoppe and her new hobby of pressing the flowers nobody bought, while Charlie talked about the town's south end welcoming sign being relocated to a new area.

"…The area wasn't safe for these tourists to pull over and take photos," Charlie went on. "Now the sign is over there by the Timber Museum. Much safer place."

"Have you read the book, Bella?" Jessica asked.

I shook my head. "No, I've never even heard of it." Apparently Clallam County had received an increase in tourism due to the release of a teen novel whose main character returns to Forks to live with her father. "Why anybody would want to base the setting of their book in this lackluster town is beyond me."

"I know, right," Jessica agreed. "I mean, why not someplace more exciting like New Orleans?"

"I think it's nice," Renee said simply.

Jessica left for home shortly after dinner but I couldn't bring myself to escape to my room the second she'd walked out the door. Instead I decided to stick it out and spend some time on the couch watching old 70's reruns with Charlie while Renee sat in her armchair reading one of her cheesy romance novels.

While Charlie laughed boisterously at an episode of Three's Company, I turned the volume down on my cell phone and tucked it in between my folded legs to send Tanya a text message.

_Hey. I made it okay._

_:) I was starting 2 wonder. How's everything? – Tanya_

_Good. I'll giv U a call 2morrow. Tired. Thx for everything._

_Talk 2 U then - Tanya_

I tucked my phone under my thigh and stared toward the television, the colors and movements blurring into an unintelligible mess. Before too long Renee closed her book, excusing herself for bed, and Charlie was fast asleep, snoring loudly with his head drooped to the side. I took the old woven blanket off the back of the couch and carefully draped it over Charlie before tiptoeing up the stairs to my room.

Renee, never having been the type of mother to invade her child's privacy, had left my room untouched. Dust covered everything from my bed to my desk, the small dresser in the corner, my mirror, both nightstands, and the exposed hard wood floors. Track marks from my earlier conversation with Jessica and Angela – like a dance pattern – provided a map of every step we'd taken. A single suitcase lie just inside the door, the others – the ones Charlie had managed to carry up on his own – were neatly lined up against the wall.

Digging through the suitcase that was lying on the floor, I located my bag of toiletries and made a quick trip to the bathroom to wash up before bed. Had I been any less tired, I would have taken a long hot shower – but I wanted to sleep, to let my brain shut down for a while and to not have to think.

Back in my room I stripped off my jeans and hoodie, leaving them in a pile on the dusty floor, and shook out my bedding before climbing under the blankets and turning out the light. As tired as I was, I just laid there, my mind refusing to shut down. I thought about everything Jessica had told me; Lauren's engagement and Eric finding somebody to love him back, Austin's death and Dr. Gerandy's retirement. I wondered what people would think and say once they found out the reason I'd moved home – would they look at me differently? I didn't want to have to face them and find out.

Looking over at the clock I realized that only fifteen hours earlier I'd woken up in a completely different place – a place where nobody was likely to judge me for having a child out of wedlock – and the reality of it really hit me. I started to cry. Hot tears slid down my temples and into my hair as I pulled the thick comforter over my face to muffle my sobs.

Whether I liked it or not, I was home.

* * *

Peppermint Rolaids are disgusting – just so you know.


	3. Chapter Three: In The Arms Of Morpheus

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

A/N: I was going to write this chapter through both Bella and Edward's POV, but then I started thinking that Edward needed his own chapter. Bella has had two to herself, after all. Edward is not as open as Bella is, so this chapter is a bit shorter. Enjoy.

Thanks to my lovely beta, beans827, to my sister, garbageandkneehighs, and to my other half, mystycblue.

* * *

Inspiration Playlist:

1. Mazohyst of Decadence by Dir en grey

* * *

CHAPTER THREE – IN THE ARMS OF MORPHEUS

POV: Edward

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick…_

_The sun shone brightly overhead as I drove recklessly through traffic, racing against time. I could see the turn up ahead. My timing was perfect as I jerked the wheel and pulled the emergency break, my back tires screaming. Horns blared at my now perpendicular vehicle. I didn't allow the car to slow down; releasing the e-break, I hit the gas pedal and flew down the small lane in front of me, leaving the main road behind. Food chains and shopping centers blurred by, dissolving into thin air, and the pavement turned to dust. _

_Loopy script on a small piece of notebook paper pinched between my thumb and the steering wheel told me I was running out of time. The paper had been worn soft from her worrying – rubbing it between her slender fingers._

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick…_

_I stopped the car in front of a large rusted warehouse surrounded by miles of dirt and rock – the city black and burning in the distance. Outside, a man dressed in black robes threw small lumps into an open pit fire, the smell of charred sweets filling the air. Cherub tombstones encircled the hole; their chubby forms caked with ash._

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick…_

_I threw open the car door and was on my feet in that same second. I ran straight for the warehouse, gravel crunching under my shoes as I went… but the sound was wrong, and so was the feeling. What should have been rock gave way like walnuts crushing under the weight of my steps. I looked down without slowing my stride. Buried deep in the dirt were skulls, hollow and blackened, the size of large oranges. Startled, I stumbled and fell, my body skidding across the sharp shattered pieces of bone._

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick…_

_I felt no pain as I scrambled back to my feet. I saw the blood oozing from my scrapes – spreading across the front of my shirt and jeans – but I paid no attention to it as the second hand continued to pulse._

_Already sprinting, I pumped my arms harder and my legs followed suit – faster and faster. I was almost there. Twenty feet… fifteen feet… ten feet… and then the ground fell away. An ocean of burnt skulls rising up under my feet, their sockets no longer empty. Thousands of pale green and yellow eyes watched as I struggled to keep my head above the surface. The warehouse rocked in front of me, like a phantom vessel floating on a sea of lost souls, as wave after wave crashed over my head – the skulls clattering like wooden wind chimes – burying me in ash._

_I felt myself begin to sink, the darkness pressing in on me from every direction. I opened my mouth to scream, but there was no sound – swallowed by the nothingness. Not even the ticking of a clock existed here. My hair stood on end as I sank deeper into the void – rapidly falling. The wind rushed in my ears, my body spiraling as I plummeted through space. I threw out my arms in an attempt to gain control and immediately slammed back down onto solid ground…_

My eyes popped open and I sat bolt upright, my heart pounding in my chest. Disoriented, I quickly took in my surroundings; I was sitting at my desk – the only sound in the room came from my panicked breathing and the soft hum of my computer. Long lines of dim orange light filtered in through the vertical blinds along the glass wall of my room, striping the walls and floor. The clock on my screen saver read seven pm. I couldn't remember falling asleep. In fact, the last thing I did remember was pouring myself a cup of coffee – which was now completely cold.

"Edward?" Alice whispered, poking her head into the room. "Are you alright?"

I ran my hands over my face in an attempt to wipe away the sleep. "I'm fine," I answered my younger and closest sibling.

Alice entered the room, placing her hands on both sides of her slender frame. "Edward, I heard you yell... You had that dream again. Didn't you?" she added, intrigued.

If Alice had in fact heard me cry out, then of course she knew I'd been dreaming – but did she really need me to confirm it for her? "Yes, Alice," I replied, exasperated. I wasn't in the mood for her dream analyzing, and I was positive that was where this conversation would lead.

Alice let her arms fall casually to her sides. "Did you make it?" she asked.

I raked my fingers through my hair. "No." Did I ever make it to the end? I'd been having the same dream for two and a half years – it wasn't a dream I had every night, but it was the only dream I could seem to remember consciously – and not once had I made it inside of the rusted warehouse.

Alice tilted her head to the side in thought, "I was thinking-"

"Wait," I cut her off, my tone half-mocking, the other half impatient. "Are you sure you don't want to get your Dreamer's Dictionary first?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Can it, Edward." And without pausing, she carried on, "I was thinking that maybe you don't _want_ to reach the end of the dream."

I sighed. "I've already told you, Alice. I'm not a lucid dreamer."

"That's not what I meant," she replied, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. "I was talking about you, now, while you're awake. You do not want to see this dream through so much that the mental barriers you build up while awake are strong enough that your subconscious mind can't break through them. I bet if you just allowed yourself to see what was inside the warehouse, the dream would go away. Instead you face one obstacle after another, until you jolt awake."

As to be expected, Alice was right on the money – she was the most insightful person I knew. No, I sure as hell didn't want to see the damn dream through. I knew exactly what waited for me inside the warehouse, and it wasn't something I ever wanted to experience again – awake or asleep. Had I been completely open with Alice and shared the full details of my dream with her, I knew she would understand, and perhaps she would stop tying to break down my subconscious.

I decided to play dumb, "What?"

Alice looked back at me knowingly.

"It's just a dream, Alice. Everybody has nightmares."

Alice opened her mouth to speak – probably about to give me the whole "why people dream" speech for the thousandth time – but closed it on second thought with a defeated huff that blew out her cheeks.

"So, what were you doing lurking around up here anyway?" I teased; relieved she'd let the dream subject go – for now.

"_Ooh_, something along the lines of Psycho – but without the shower," she replied nonchalantly, with a wave of her hand.

I laughed. "You're such a freak." Alice was a lover of horror; unlike most girls who, at the tender age of five, latched onto all things pink and Barbie, Alice instead latched onto the Dreamwalker himself – Freddy Krueger – and never looked back from his slash-happy ways.

She smiled angelically, "I know." Then she became serious; "I was going to ask you if you would mind running to the store for me? Jasper had that competition in Seattle this weekend, Rose called to say she was running late, Emmett is giving little Henry a bath, Dad got called into the ER, and Mom is on a business call – otherwise I wouldn't have bothered you… not that you were working anyway."

"I was taking a coffee break."

"You may want to check the pot to make sure what you're drinking is leaded. Correct me if I'm wrong, but most people drink their coffee in the upright and awake position."

I rolled my eyes. "What is it that you need me to pick up for you?" I asked, standing up. I picked up my cold cup of coffee and headed for the door.

"Eggs," Alice replied, springing off the bed and following me into the hallway. She continued to bounce animatedly on the balls of her feet as we walked, "I'm making Swordfish a la Siciliana with asparagus and a Hollandaise sauce I found on the Food Network website."

I cringed internally. "What happened to Hamburger Helper?" Saturday nights were Alice's night to cook, and unless the food came out of a box, her meals were not exactly what one would call edible.

Alice stopped at the top of the stairs. "Edward, don't you know how bad that stuff is for you? How many preservatives and sodium it contains? Not to mention the lack of all notable nutrients. And it is _completely_ unimaginative!"

"Hey, swordfish is great," I enthused, flattening my back against the wall and holding my hands and coffee cup up in surrender as Alice stomped past me down the stairs, "and you know I love asparagus."

She snorted.

"I just hope I'm able to digest it this time," I added, not quite under my breath as I followed behind her.

"What was that?" Alice threatened, twisting her torso just enough to give me a sideways glare. She was standing two stairs below me and just managed to come up to my waist.

I fought to control my smile, "I said it's good for digestion."

Alice narrowed her eyes. "That's what I thought."

We continued to banter with each other as we walked along the second floor corridor and down the grand staircase that curved along the west side of our family's great room. The large Victorian style mansion we lived in was still unfamiliar to me; I knew its layout like the back of my hand, but it didn't feel like home. The only sense of belonging I felt came from the people I lived with – my family.

"I've already gotten the steaks into the oven," Alice told me as we entered the kitchen. "All I have left is to cook the asparagus and make the Hollandaise sauce – which I know for a fact I had enough eggs for this morning. Emmett must be on another protein kick."

"I'll go to the store for you," I replied, dumping my coffee into the sink and rinsing out the cup to place in the dishwasher. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Yeah, pick me up some diapers," Emmett – our older brother – answered, entering the kitchen from the laundry room. He was carrying his ten-month-old son, Henry, in one arm and a small infant tote bag in the other. "I cannot believe how much," he mouthed over the word 'shit', "can come out of a baby. Where does he store it all, and what, on God's green Earth, did they feed you at that daycare today, huh, little man?"

Henry answered timely by flatulating soundly against his father's arm.

"Yeah," Emmett roared. "That's my boy!"

Alice shook her head. "Like father, like son."

"So what do you say, man, can you pick me up some diapers?"

I opened the refrigerator door and took a Dr. Pepper off the shelf, the carbonation burning my throat on its way down as I slammed half the can in just a few gulps. "Sure, no problem."

I assured Alice I would return soon, downed the second half of my soda, and followed Emmett into the family room where he sat Henry down into a large wooden playpen filled with toys, all designed to stimulate an infants mind. Henry sat cooing as he picked up a soft musical block and started chewing on its cloth tag.

"Size three," Emmett said, handing me a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet.

I shook my head. "I'll just use my card."

I grabbed my car keys from an end table drawer and headed for the garage. With half the family out and their cars gone, I was able to back my Volvo out without having to ask somebody to move their car first – one of the cons of having a large family.

Turning the volume up on the stereo, I pulled onto the twisting dirt road that lead from my family's home in the forest to the highway that would take me into town. I still found that thought to be strange; having to drive into town to go shopping. I'd grown up in Chicago – Emmett and Alice as well – where everything you needed was a short drive from home in any given direction.

It had been our mother, Esme, who one day decided she'd had enough of the Windy City and moved the entire family – Emmett and his wife, Rosalie, included – here to Forks, Washington. Six months later Alice met Jasper while having drinks at a pub in Port Angeles – a town just northeast of Forks – and Rosalie became pregnant with Henry. It had been a little more than two years since we'd left Chicago and our family had grown, but I was no more used to life in Forks than I had been the day we all arrived in this backwoods town.

I pulled into the parking lot at Thriftway five minutes later. It had begun to sprinkle as I drove into town and the rapidly accumulating drops of water on the windshield told me it was starting to pour. I grabbed my hoodie from the backseat and shoved my arms through the sleeves, pulling the hood up over my head. I exited the car quickly and jogged up to the automatic doors and out of the rain.

Slowing my stride to a walk, I headed straight towards the back of the store where the eggs were located. Once I found a carton that looked to be in good condition, I headed down the infant aisle for Henry's diapers, then back towards the front of the store. I was just about to place my items on the checkout counter when the clerk turned off her cash register and placed a 'closed' sign over the conveyor belt, forcing me to stand in the next line over behind an elderly man buying a months worth of prune juice and denture cream.

As I stood there waiting for grandpa to count out his change, I got the strangest feeling in the pit of my stomach – a tingling. I tried to remember the last time I'd eaten but I couldn't recall anything past the bowl of cold spaghetti I'd had for breakfast. I didn't actually feel hungry though, as the tingling wasn't exactly a growling – which, taking Alice's cooking into consideration, was probably a good thing. The tingling, however, was growing stronger.

"…Died in a motorcycle accident last month," said a voice I recognized as Jessica Newton's, as she got in line behind me. Jessica worked for Angela Cheney who ran the daycare Henry attended.

"That's horrible," replied a breathless, unfamiliar voice.

I rolled my eyes; in a town where everyday was a reflection of the day before, and events such as the relocation of the town's welcome sign made the front page, of course a story like Austin Marks' drunken seventy-five mile an hour kiss with an oncoming semi was still considered to be big news.

"…You feeling okay?" Jessica asked the other girl.

"I'm alright, it's just my stomach – it keeps getting worse. I was feeling nauseated before, but now…"

I groaned inaudibly, wanting to move up a few steps in case the unknown girl became ill – I didn't want to have to turn around and act like a gentleman if she decided to vomit. The tingling in my own stomach had intensified almost painfully and had spread through my chest and throat. I didn't feel sick, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling either.

"…The nausea seems to have turned into more of a fluttering."

Fluttering – that was a good way to describe it. I hoped I wasn't coming down with something, though it was impossible to have caught something from the girl standing behind me that quickly, if at all.

"Is it indigestion?"

"I'm not sure, but I think I'll buy some Tums, just in case. I'll be right back."

"Baking soda and water works better," replied Jessica, following the girl away from the checkout line just as grandpa slid the last few remaining pennies off the counter and into the palm of his hand, unsteadily handing them out to the cashier.

In that same moment the strange feeling in my abdomen began to subside, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I lowered my hood and stepped forward to pay for my things.

"Hello, Edward. Did you find everything you needed?" the cashier, Eric, asked politely.

"Yes. Thank you," I replied, setting a handful of Snickers bars down on the conveyor belt along with the diapers and eggs. Emmett, Jasper, and I liked to keep an emergency supply of assorted "munchies" in order to avoid disaster on nights when the forecast for Alice's cooking promised heart-stopping indigestion and fifty mile per hour winds.

"You have a good night," Eric said, handing me my bags after I'd paid. "Say hello to Dr. Cullen for me."

I nodded and pulled my hood back over my head. It was true what they said about small towns; everybody knew everybody.

Outside the rain had slowed to a drizzle, giving the air a mist-like quality. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and sent Alice a quick message letting her know I was on my way back.

_Be there in 5._

I pulled into the garage exactly five minutes later. Both Carlisle and Rosalie had returned home in my absence, but Jasper wouldn't be home until the following day. He was spending the weekend in Seattle for a Karate competition; Jasper owned a martial arts club in Port Angeles.

Emmett was waiting for me at the door. "Please tell me they were out of eggs."

"We're not that lucky," I replied, stepping into the house. The scent of burnt tuna and wine reached my nose the moment I'd closed the door behind me, "Is it supposed to smell that way?"

Emmett shrugged his shoulders, "No clue."

I handed him the diapers and the bag with the candy bars in it, "Here, stash these."

Emmett peeked inside the bag before animatedly switching to Secret Agent Man mode and slinking off towards the second floor. He hummed the theme to Mission Impossible as he took the stairs two at a time and then flattened his back against the landing wall.

"You're supposed to act natural," I called up to him.

Emmett farted repulsively in reply and disappeared down the hallway.

I shook my head. Emmett had a vulgar sense of humor, but he wasn't discourteous. In fact, he was very much a gentleman around the women in our family – around females in general – and was nothing but professional around his students and colleagues. Emmett taught physical education at Forks High School – he was also the coach of their football team in the fall, and their soccer team in the spring. Over the summers he coached Little League.

In the kitchen, Rosalie was sitting on a bar stool at the island counter, while Alice flitted about. They must have been speaking secretively because when I walked in the room they stopped talking altogether and Rosalie feigned giving her full attention to the shopping catalogue in front of her.

"Am I interrupting?" I handed Alice the bag containing the carton of eggs.

"Don't be silly," she replied, wiping her hands on her apron. "Rose and I were just chatting."

Rosalie looked up as though she'd just realized I'd walked into the room.

"Thank you, Edward," Alice continued. "Dinner will be done shortly; the sauce only takes a few minutes."

"You're welcome. It smells wonderful, Alice."

Alice knew she wasn't the best cook – I liked to tease her about it on occasion – but it was something she loved to do. Alice always put a lot of time and effort into whipping up "new and exciting" meals for us, and nobody had the heart – or guts – to ask her to stop. We would rather choke her food down with a smile than to risk Alice proving, once and for all, that reading _Fangoria_ magazine was more than just a preference. It was her study guide.

I saw Rosalie smile in my peripheral view.

"Good evening, Rose," I said. "How was your day?"

"It was good. Thank you," she replied happily. "But before I forget, would you be able to pick Henry up from daycare not this coming Monday, but the week after?"

"Sure. No problem," I said, grabbing myself a second Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator.

"Thanks, Edward. Charlotte went into labor this morning so I'll be opening and closing the salon until she returns, and Emmett has a fundraiser at the Youth Center that night. Also, Alice and Esme will be in Seattle giving an estimate. So, I really do appreciate it."

"Hey, don't worry. It's what I'm here for. I'll take the little ankle biter to the park."

Rosalie laughed. "If you weren't doing me a favor I'd have to smack you for that comment," she teased.

"Just think of it as a term of endearment," I smirked. "I have no problem spending the afternoon with my nephew."

"Thanks again, Edward."

"You're welcome."

I was just about to step outside when I heard Alice curse. She was standing at the stove whisking vigorously over a double broiler.

"Do you need any help, Alice?"

"No, I've got it," she replied breathlessly, removing the pot from the burner. "I had the heat up too high; the eggs were clumping… Give me another five minutes. I'm going to try again." And she dumped the entire contents of the pot into a waiting trashcan with one lumpy glop.

I was about to wish her good luck when I thought better of it, "I'll be outside."

I exited the house through the sliding glass doors that lead from the kitchen to a large stone patio in the backyard. The sun had set just beyond the horizon, tinting the clouds vibrant shades of red and orange, and dousing the trees into darkness. I could hear the rush of water that was the Sol Duc River at the edge of our property running black in the shadows.

The patio had been Esme's project the previous summer. Both she and Alice were educated in renovation and design. The house itself had been their first project; it was the reason we all were living in Forks and not some other inconsequential town.

I set my Dr. Pepper down on the wrought iron coffee table and pulled a small crumpled rectangular box and silver butane lighter from my pocket before sinking my butt into the deep cushions of an outdoor lounge chair.

I still had the same three cigarettes in my pack as I did one month ago; I'd stopped smoking them. Not because I was trying to quit – I could care less about the erosion of my lungs – but because they no longer held the relief I was looking for. Not the nicotine or the repetitive motion. Today, however, I would smoke all three if I thought they would help to relax me even the smallest amount.

Placing the first cigarette gently between my lips, I cupped my hands around the Zippo brand lighter and quickly flicked my thumb across the flint wheel to ignite the wick. A soft glow illuminated the space between my palms, casting orange light across the portrait engraved into the metal. A beautiful one dimpled smile and wide enamored eyes looked back at me…

"_It's dumb. You don't like it."_

_I turned the small silver rectangle over in my palm and ran a finger gently over the thin raised markings along its body. "It's perfect," I whispered. "I love it."_

"_Really?" she asked tentatively. "You don't think it's stupid?"_

"_Stupid? Not at all."_

"_Because I would understand if you think it is. I just didn't know what to get you – I suppose another vintage band tee would have been good, but you already own so many…"_

_I shook my head and waited for her to finish._

"_And then I thought perhaps something to parallel the locket you gave to me for Christmas, but I couldn't imagine you with something like a pocket watch… I'm sorry. It was a bad idea." _

"_Look at me," I said, taking her cheek into the palm of my hand. "You couldn't have given me a gift I would love more."_

_Her warm cinnamon eyes brimmed with tears._

"_Why are you crying?" I asked, wiping the drops away with the pads of my thumbs._

_She closed her eyes and leaned her head further into my hand, "Because you love me…"_

"Edward?" My mother's soft voice pulled me from my reverie.

I gave my wrist a quick jerk and the hinged lid of the lighter snapped shut to smother the flame. I removed the unlit cigarette from between my lips and answered, "I'm here."

I heard Esme's footsteps along the stone path leading from the back of the house to the patio. She smiled as she came into view and took a seat in one of the chairs across from me. She wore a long red floral dress with straps that tied behind her neck. Her graying bronze hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. She was beautiful.

"I've missed you today," she said. "You've been so busy."

I nodded. "I accomplished quite a bit. I even had time for a nap."

"Good. You haven't been sleeping well… sometimes I worry."

My mother rarely spoke of what was on her mind; never really verbalizing her thoughts or opinions on anything. The way most people needed to put what they felt into words, Esme used soft eyes and meaningful gestures, often conveying more through a look than many could ever hope to express through speech.

So when Esme told me she was worried, I knew she was talking about more than just my sleeping habits.

"I'm okay," I reassured her.

Esme's eyes moved to the lighter I was cradling in the palm of my hand. They lingered there for the briefest moment before she swept her gaze up towards the sky.

"Do you know what I like the most about living in a small town?" she asked with a sigh. "There are no lights bright enough to obscure the stars."

I didn't bother to look up; I knew I wouldn't be able to see the stars even if I did. Instead, I put the unlit cigarette away and placed both the lighter and the crumpled pack back into my pocket.

Esme turned to look at me, a forlorn smile on her lips. "If you could only see past the clouds."

For a fleeing moment, I thought I saw the glint of a tear on my mother's cheek reflecting the dull light that shone from the garden lanterns, but before I could look too closely, Alice called out, "Dinner's ready!"

Esme turned her head in the direction of the house and replied, "We'll be there in a moment, dear."

When she turned back to me, the tear was gone, and I wasn't positively sure I'd seen it in the first place.

"Let's go eat," she said, rising to her feet. "Your sister has put together a wonderful meal for us."

I nodded my head and stood up. As we walked up the stone pathway, I reached for my mother's hand.

"It may be cloudy, but it's still a beautiful night."

. . .

Dinner tasted exactly the way it smelled, like burnt tuna fish and fermented fruit. I took small bites to avoid the rock hard raisins, while Emmett pushed the food around his plate like a school kid trying to make it look like he'd eaten more than he actually had. Rosalie fed Henry pureed fruit and diced vegetables out of small jars, and something from the way Emmett kept glancing at his son told me he would gladly trade up the inedible delicacy on his plate for the jars of mush if given half the chance. Honestly, he wasn't the only one. Even Esme was chewing slowly, and Carlisle kept looking down at his pager as though he was expecting to be called into the Emergency Room at any moment.

Saturday nights were also what we liked to call Alice and Rosalie's "cloak and supper" night. After dinner, Alice, Rosalie, and sometimes Esme, would head out to Port Angeles for drinks and dancing. It was a suspicion shared by the men in our family that the girls ordered real meals while they were out.

"Your sister really outdid herself this time," my father said as Emmett handed him a Snickers bar. "Thank you, Emmett."

Emmett was carrying an infant monitor that crackled in the pocket of his cargo shorts. He'd just returned from putting Henry to bed and had stopped by the second floor storage closet on his way down.

"We should order pizza," Emmett replied. He tossed a Snickers bar in my direction before plopping down on to a plush white armchair. "Meat lovers."

Without argument, Carlisle drew his cell phone from his pocket. "How about you, Edward?"

I nodded in agreement before leaning my head against the back of the sofa. I listened to the static sounds of Henry cooing over the monitor, a continuous flow of soft vowels and burbles, while Carlisle placed the order for our pizza.

In no time at all my body began to feel weighed down, the waves of sleep lapping at my consciousness. Henry's coos became distant, an echo in the dark, and I was weightless…

_A shiver, as gentle as butterfly wings, crept through my body as I stood facing the warehouse. Under my feet was the ocean of skulls, stagnate. The city burned on the horizon. Ash filled the air, the scent thick and cloying._

_Standing at the base of the warehouse was the figure of a girl. Her features were blurred as though I was looking at her through wall of heat. She stood with her back towards me, reading the aged sign on the front of the building._

_Slowly, the girl turned to face me, and though I couldn't see her clearly, she was familiar to me._

"_Will it hurt?" she asked._

_I nodded solemnly. "More than I can tell you."_

_Without another word she turned back, her hair undulating around her slender frame, and she took a hold of the rusted doorknob and pulled._

"_Wait!" I cried out, but my voice caught in my throat and I began to choke. Heavy smoke filled my airways as the ground gave way under the soles of my feet._

_Blackness surged up around me and I fell, plummeting through space once more._

* * *

Snickers happens to be my favorite candy bar. What's yours?


End file.
